


but we can still hear the music in the dark

by ruinate



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Consent Issues, Cultist Tekhartha Zenyatta, Cults, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pet Names, Self-Indulgent, Size Difference, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruinate/pseuds/ruinate
Summary: Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Throdog R'luhhor R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.





	but we can still hear the music in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> **additional warnings:** slight dubious consent because of the nature of cthulhu mythos and the almost siren-song effect that has genji's inhibitions and desire to say no basically non-existent. trans genji with use of female coded genitalia ie cunt, pussy, clit. different characterizations than typical genyatta due to the nature of the universe. also a mix of gentle and sweet combined with kinky because that's my brand. zenyatta has no name and is referred to only as the Great Old One but it's him.
> 
> so when the leak happened, i had five (5) people in my inboxes across various social media asking me if i'd seen it because "it's like something out of your wet dreams" and "i saw it and immediately was like 'ruinate must be dead'". so i started writing then but just now polished it enough to publish it. self indulgent porn because everyone expects it of me. dipping my toes into the genyatta fandom again almost a year after my first fic.

Twin lilac arrays light dim passageways - four lights, three for the elder, one for the younger, flicker in patterns he cannot distinguish. Sure foot after foot, they do not falter, walking in unison - as if they have walked this path hundred times prior and another before then, unafraid of pulsating walls and wet limestone floors. Violet - the elder, taller omnic - speaks through her body, shoulders back, helm held high, haughty and proud. Primrose, her younger sister, is slight, thinness and frailty in her pistons, who speaks with clumsy tongue and anxious fingers.

Winding snakes of dread curl in the pit of Genji’s stomach, brown eyes unadjusted to nigh pitch darkness as he struggles to follow their minuscule lighting. Where he must walk flat-footed, Violet must duck, hunched in a way that her metal spine creaks with each sure step. Even then, her digits do not part from her sister’s, free hands tapping nonsensical patterns into throbbing walls. A language he could not follow, could not speak.

“We have been walking the same hall for an hour.” Genji murmurs, shattering ambient silence, barely able to catch himself when his foot slips on wet limestone. “I thought we would have reached the antechamber by now.”

“You are wrong, for it is your humanness that has warped your sense of time. We will arrive when it is time and only then, for only His most trusted may find the way. All others must perish within these walls, offerings to the dreamers.” Primrose does not glance back, dying flickers of her array moulding into the void. “This is known to all.”

Silence overtakes them once more until Violet speaks, voice jagged clipping edges of a replaced vocoder. “Still.” Midstep, the omnic freezes, helm tilted upwards, left index and forefinger rising slowly. “He does not wish us to stay, Prim… We must depart.”

It is then that the twins turn, arrays trained on his form - clawed digits dig into his flesh. Surprise paralyzes Genji as the twin turn around, clawed digits digging into flesh, outweighing flight or fight as he is thrust to waiting darkness. Edges of soft purples vanish to nothingness, metal door clanking shut behind him. “You are awaited, Initiate; should you survive the Great Old One, we shall return for you when he summons us. Until then.”

Until then, all is still - quiet - unsettled.

 _There is something here._ He realises suddenly, presence of another making itself known. Chains rattle as something groans in the darkness - a death knell, ringing through a haunting melody. It beckons him forward, despite the terror resting against his sternum, still yet to bloom. A hand outstretched as he takes careful step after step, afraid of moving lest he fall and never stand again.

It is only when he is far enough from the door that it hits him. Rust worming its way into his nose, decay on his tongue - _blood._ Trembling fingers, though he is blind to their condition, dive to cover his nose and mouth, in vain hopes that he could stifle rising bile. _I’ve been sent here to die._

Whispers of unheard music press him onwards, through blood and water, despite his heart’s refusal to comply. A string accompaniment of wet drips and rattling chains, graveyard siren song sung by a master baritone. _A Shimada does not fear darkness._ He steels his heart against what he may find lurking there. _Ahagl ah soth ph'nglui n'ghft._

Genji freezes, chanting the phrase over in his mind - a language compromised of madness and things one should not know.  The language of the twins.

That which the Great Old One speaks.

“I can sense you in the darkness.” The voice of a ghost drowned, singer to an unseen opera - the Great Old One calls to him. “So much discord in such a blank slate.” The chains shift, clanking as if fingers strained to touch the human. “This is easily remedied, little star.”

“What -” _Ahf' ymg' ah?_ Warped mind supplies, desperate for the throat to wrap around garbled words and speak them - primal desires for survival warn him against it. _It will be your blood on this stone and then what will Hanzo do, but die in his loneliness?_ Lowering his hand, Genji swallows around nothing, stitching faux bravado to his shadow. “What are you? You are the one they worship?”

The beast sighs, as if entranced, sound rumbling through the human’s frame. “Such a personable voice… Come into the light - let me look at you.” Whistling, several floating eyes orbit his person, turning on both axes to take turns looking at him. Taking a step back, Genji starts at the sudden flip of his stomach before a solitary eye presses against his back, pushing him onwards. A small lantern sways against a metal shepherd’s  hook, illuminating the chamber in dim yellows. There - the Great Old One meditates, knees folded underneath him, hands held in the mudrā of Buddhist monks, though he were not human. He towers over Genji, even whilst sitting - the chains wrapped around his waist and throat glinting streaks in pale light. Moving forward, curiosity bites at the heels of his self-control, one hand reaching out for it. A war between his ribs wages, terror and curiosity, enthralled by the beast. Though the beast had no mouth, he could hear the gentle ‘tsk’ echoing in his mind.

“What do they call you?” Genji tries again, desperate as whispering voices urge him forward, _closer, little star, come closer, the Great Old One has awaited your beauty._ Nausea bubbles up into his stomach, rising like the tide, pulled away by the moon. Another step has Genji in the space of the creature, staring up at emotionless eyes. refusing to pry himself from the space neatly carved. _Why do I come closer? What has happened to me?_ “I deserve your name if I am to -” _Serve?_ The dare of his friend is forgotten, the name slipping from him as steadily as his desire to fight.

 _Something_ within the Great Old One calls for him, soul itching to intertwine with Genji’s own. Alluring, melodic, calling and beckoning him ever deeper into the void.

“I hold no qualms of giving you mine if I could, little star.” The Great Old One softens, so deeply attuned with the cacophony within. “Alas, I do not recall what it was. It was taken from me many years ago by those who keep me here. Even still, I do not think you could pronounce it.” He tilts his head, tendrils curling and writhing in the same way Genji oft fidgeted with his cellphone’s keycharm. “I am a Great One - he who sleeps in comet dust. My sisters and brothers, who are older than I and more deserving of the old epithet, lie in the depths dreaming. What you call me does not matter.”

“You would be offended if I were to call you a beast then.” Genji bites, barely restraining the fear permeating from his chest. The muscles in his neck ache and strain against how he holds his head, refusing to back from eye contact.

“You would as well, I think. I would like to think you have more intelligence than to insult someone larger than you.” He teases in return, just able to stifle a laugh threatening to spill. His hands shift to rest over his chest, runes holding him glowing viridian in the light. “I am surprised you understand me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You speak Japanese as fluently as I.”

“Ah, but I have no human mouth. I cannot speak through my own so I must speak through your mind.” Genji pauses at the words, staring at their speaker. A breath. “Did those who led you here tell you of your duties? What the Great Old One would ask of you in the darkness?”

 _To die_ , the part of him still clinging to his sense of identity supplies. _To feed you so that you may rise again._ Another voice speaks - _how would he rise if he speaks and meditates, more astute to monkhood than tyranny?_ Long lithe fingers reach to tangle in prehensile tendrils, moving without permission from the human. Horror and heat pool in his belly as slime drips from the beast’s maw. The Great Old One laughs then, soft baritone tinkling - Genji’s heart thrums, trapped beneath ivory rib-bones as his mouth opens to answer. “What would you ask of me in the dark?

 

* * *

 

The Great One does not have a human mouth of which to speak with - a cephalopod’s beak rests underneath purple and green tendrils, tongue tucked behind hard chitin. The tentacles themselves would be enough to fill him, stretch his pussy beyond limits established. Gently, slick fingers slip under the cotton, rubbing against smooth flesh, suction cups leaving minute hickeys along the panes of his stomach. Intoxicated and punch drunk, Genji’s head lulls as he straddles one thigh of the beast, form bending back to allow for more access. Voices of loved ones forgotten, southern drawl a faint afterthought, sharp but warm Japanese slipping into the void. “Beautiful,” the Great One murmurs, tapping the human’s lower back to turn his attention out, eyes hazy. “You still seek to separate yourself from me. We must change that if you are to remain here.”

Slick drips between Genji’s thighs, underwear sticking to skin as he rolls sinously against one thigh. Voices chant in his heads, words he could not understand, not yet accepted into the abysmal heart of the Great Old One. “I don’t - I am obedient to you, Great One.” _Forever, stay forever, stay with us, little star. Master will love you. Master will care for you. You do not need to fear us. Praise Him - the Iris will consume us all._ How long has he been trapped in this chamber, straddling the thigh of a beast who could rip arm from torso, leg from hip? Floating eyes flicker from space to space in the emptiness as warmth hovers over cloth. Resplendent golden tentacles dive under the waistband of his jeans, pressing up against his pubic mound, soaking the fabric with their own lubrication.  

“Little star, I have awaited one such as you for centuries. Your soul will sing such lovely praises, as reverent as your pleasure.” Genji’s nails dig into the Great One’s trousers, fingers trailing behind as he is lifted by twin tentacles, jeans and briefs wiggled off and tossed to the bloodied water. Pliantly, his thighs spread, slick folds glistening in dim light. His hand slips down his stomach, past dark wiry hairs to rub lazily over his clit, peeking from underneath its hood. The tentacles do not recede, lifting him as if he were nothing but a feather to put him on the shoulders of the chained creature, pressing him closer.

“Why?” The initiate questions, eyes rolling back at low voices, garbled and distorted but crystal clear. _We took you from your mother’s womb - this is our temple, this is our right._ “Great One, how do I hear them?” Slurring words that make no sense, as if he were drugged, his free hand moves to lift his hoodie over his stomach.

“Who do you hear, little star?” The Great One replies, tendrils unfurling to stroke at Genji’s candy pink cunt, an altar offering. “What do they whisper to you?” A soft breath huffs against wet skin, lithe fingers tightening around heavy chains, body hunching over his head.

“ _We took you from your mother’s womb -_ ” he repeats, dutifully, using the same inflection as the chants. Heat builds as the creature trails its mouth over his cunt. " _This is our temple, this is our right.”_ A tendril slides between slick lips, pressing gently against his hole, just to test the give, as Genji bucks forward, panting wetly. It presses deeper, just enough to have Genji whining in his throat.

“My tongue sounds so true in your mouth. Your throat was made to speak the language of stars.” The Great One replies, tongue hidden away dragging through the slick mess as the initiate speaks his guttural language. Gilded tentacles press Genji closer, until he were pressed pelvis to maw, tongue and tentacles drawing wet sounds from him. “My brother stole your purpose - you were always meant to be mine, Genji.”

 _“Master_ ,” Genji hisses, teeth grit, back arched into a curve. His nails scramble to find purchase in the dark hood drawn over the Great One’s head, groaning as inch by inch of the tentacles slide into him. Were he more lucid, not drawn to the Great One like moth to flame, he thinks he would have fought - desperate to find an exit, slay the beast between his thighs. Were his thoughts more ready to come, he would realise he never spoke his own name to the beast. “ _It is too much.”_

 _Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, only to me._ Something breathes the words against his spine, careful to trail non-existent lips down the vertebrae, arching him further into the beast’s mouth. Slick and slime drip from his cunt to the fabric underneath him, as the Great One pushes tendrils deeper, tongue flicking over his clit. His thighs tremble with the energy necessary to keep from clamping tightly around the Great One’s head, grinding his clit against the slimy tongue. “My most beloved, you struggle so pleasingly,” he murmurs lovingly, another tentacle pressing in alongside its brother.

Tears burn hot in the corners of his eyes, spilling down flushed cheeks as he sobs at the stretch. He would not tear - too slick, too much wetness but the _stretch_ burns, crackling fire up his spine. His arousal rests astutely in the center of his pelvis, growing hotter and more fervent. Aching, drool drips from slackened lips as his cunt tenses, pulsing around the intrusion. Stomach tenses, fighting against as knots twists themselves into existence, lungs burning with the lack of oxygen as he pulls short breath after short breath.

 _“You’re gonna...you’re gonna make me come -”_ he gasps as the Great One laughs again, prehensile tentacles writhing within him, reaching deeper to stroke against a spot that sets sparks off. " _I’m gonna come - let me come please -_ ” His thighs twitch, attempting to close, to cut away stimulation as pressure builds to a pinprick ready to pop. “Master, Master, Master.”

He needs no permission, bucking with an elegant curve of his back - his frame spasms as the heat boils over, sobbing as he gushes around the Great Old One’s tentacles. Eyes rolling into the back of his head as cream-white overtakes his vision. Distantly, he hears indistinguishable promises whispered wetly against sweat soaked skin before blackness overwhelms him, pulling him into nothingness.

* * *

Hanzo wakes him early the next morning, worry drawn over the lines of sharp features. They sit on the edge of Genji’s futon, as the younger tries to remember where he had been the night before, where the marks and bruises come from, why the purple tint to his skin does not disappear when they scrub at it with soap and water. Absently, a ghost of memory whispers to him, something he should not understand but does.

_Y' llll ephaiuln ymg' ahhai yar ah mgleth, ya yogfm'l._

_I will call for you when the time is true, my star._

The guilt in his skin offers little comfort to love-sick longing in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> (i'm like... so behind on kinktober because i've been working on this so expect kinktober to flow into november. that being said, i didn't realise the twelfth was tentacles, so i guess take this as an offering, even though i will eventually write my original tentacle plan.)
> 
>  ** _RIDICULOUS_** thanks to [doctorziegler](http://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorziegler) and [novabled](http://archiveofourown.org/users/novabled) for being my beta readers / helping when i was stuck. and a huge thank you to everyone who has been reading / writing / sharing my work it means a lot to me and i'm sorry i can't express that in any other way. ;;^;;
> 
> [tumblr](http://ruinatewrites.tumblr.com) / [twitter](https://twitter.com/ruinatewrites) / [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/ruinate)


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